Page 9 of Keeping Laryn
Laryn shook her head almost furiously. “Nope. Nothing. Not at all. I’m just going to…” She gestured down the hallway with her thumb. “You know.”
He grinned. “All right.”
“Yeah.”
“Anything you don’t like on your sandwiches?” he asked, as she began to back away from him.
“Pineapple.”
He grimaced. “Gross. Is this a good time to discuss pineapple on pizza?”
Laryn shrugged. “Depends on which side of that argument you’re on.”
He grinned at her. “Go,” he ordered with a chin lift toward the hallway.
Damn, that was sexy. Laryn turned to head to her room and realized she was smiling. That wasn’t something that happened a lot after she spoke with Tate. He usually annoyed her or treated her as if she was his little sister or something. She wasn’t getting little sister vibes from him right now though.
She decided that she didn’tcarewhy he was there, just thathe was. It was possible she was still dreaming, and if that was the case, she never wanted to wake up. Because if she thought she’d liked the Tate Davis she knew from before, it was nothing compared to how much she likedthisTate Davis.
Casper watched Laryn walk away from him and, as usual, his gaze was drawn to her ass. How her coveralls could be baggy as hell everywhere but her ass, he had no idea. But he liked it a hell of a lot.
His heart was still beating hard from her casual comment about sex. He was appalled that she thought he’d shown up for a booty call, but he wasn’t lying when he’d said he wasn’t opposed to having sex with her.
Laryn Hardy was sexy as hell. He hadn’t realized he was attracted to her until recently, and now he couldn’t think of much else. She was rough around the edges, she didn’t back down when she was challenged, she liked to be in charge, took no shit from anyone, wasn’t afraid of hard work, and…Hell. She was a lot likehim. And the opposite of most women who hit on him.
Turning, Casper headed for her small kitchen. It was nothing special, linoleum countertops, cheap appliances, no dishwasher…it felt like he was in his own kitchen. Except when he opened her fridge, she didn’t have nearly the amount of food he did. She did have some sliced deli meat and cheese though. He pulled them out, along with some mayo and mustard, not sure which she’d prefer. There was also a package of bagels on the counter, which he used as bread.
It didn’t take long to put together the sandwiches, and while he waited for Laryn, he used the time to look around her living room.
She had a couch that had seen better days but lookedcomfortable. There was a blanket hanging off the cushions, as if she’d thrown it off when she’d gotten up to answer the door. The rest of the room consisted of an oversized, beat-up leather chair off to one side, wide enough to fit two people; a medium-size TV; and a bookcase filled to the brim with books—at a closer look, they were a mix of history, romance, dirt racing manuals, and of course, several how-to books on engines. Some were old, tattered and torn, and others looked pristine. Her bookshelf was a lot like the woman herself…eclectic.
There was a picture of who Casper figured had to be Laryn as a child, standing in front of an old Chevy Camaro on a dirt track with her arm around an older guy. They were both beaming, and Casper could see the resemblance between the girl and the man.
“That’s me and my old man when I was around nine. That’s the car we built from scratch, and my dad’s old buddy drove it in the dirt track race in our town. I was so proud.”
“As you should’ve been,” Casper began as he turned around. Whatever else he was going to say got stuck in his throat as he stared at the woman before him. If he hadn’t seen for himself that Laryn hadn’t left the apartment, he wouldn’t have recognized her.
The woman standing there lookednothinglike the mechanic he’d gotten so used to seeing. For one, her hair was down. Casper couldn’t remember a time he’d ever seen Laryn with her hair down. And it was beautiful. Dark brown with light brown highlights, long enough to touch her upper chest. It was still damp from her shower, and it took every ounce of control Casper had not to reach out and run his fingers through the silky-looking strands.
And she smelled…delicious. That was the only way to put it. Not that he’d ever really noticed how she’d smelled before. Probably because he was so used to the scents of the hangar and the choppers she worked on. Oil, grease, sweat. But now she literally smelled like cookies. Maybe cake. Vanilla. It made his mouth water.
And the body he’d wondered about was no longer hidden by the coveralls she always wore. She had on a pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt, both hugging her curves…and what curves they were.
He was right. Laryn was curvy as hell—and he’d never seen anything sexier.
“What? Do I have something on my face?” she asked self-consciously.
“No,” Casper said. “I was just thinking that I haven’t seen you in anything but your coveralls…like…ever.”
“That’s not true,” she protested.
Casper shrugged. He was still trying to get his mind to work properly. This woman…she was like Clark Kent. Or Diana Prince. Hiding in plain sight. This was her superhero form.
“You grew up working on cars?” he blurted, desperately trying to keep himself from saying something stupid. His brain wasn’t firing on all cylinders.
“Yeah,” she said, sounding happy. “Loved it. My dad taught me everything he knew. Took me to the track every weekend. He said I took to it like a duck to water. He was so proud of me when I got a few certificates from the community college in their automotive technology program when I was still in high school.”
“I bet he’ssuperproud of you today,” Casper said.
